AN: whomp whomps

The Fighter's Rogue Rose
Chapter Five: Come Closer
-\-O-/-

"She's as lovely as a rose… no, I fear much lovelier than even that,"

Aradin attempted to soothe the simmering anger within him as he listened to the discussion between Zennith Mournmoor and the bard, Augustus Pritcharde.

"You should write a sonnet for her!"

"I couldn't. You know very well how awkward I can be with my words. I could hardly even introduce myself to her."

"Oh rubbish, the ladies always love you. You're as smooth as they come."

"Maybe I can be but… this one is different."

"Well, how about I write a sonnet for you?" offered the bard but Zen shook his head.

"Can't do that, Gus. It'd have to come from me, directly from the heart."

Aradin slammed down the pile of timber he was carrying, letting them rattle in a racket on the ground next to the growing fire. He glared at the two men who stopped to stare back in confusion. Aradin thought they carried on like dreamy-eyed little girls. No bleeding sonnet, no serenade nor proclamations of love would be enough to persuade Lorraine away from him.

At least, he hoped anyway.

"Better be careful, friend," whispered Augustus more quietly as they watched the fighter stomp away. "It appears you've got a rival and I believe he was there first."

"That doesn't change anything," Zen countered. "A maiden like her is worth the chase."

"What do you think those two are doing out here?" asked the bard and Zen could not say.

"It is not our business, though it is curious. I wonder if we can convince them to come with us."

"I doubt it," Gus told him. "The fighter doesn't seem keen on us."

"Perhaps just her, then."

"Perhaps."

Lorraine approached the fire, a bottle of whiskey in hand. She'd just finished setting up a makeshift, overhanging shelter with a tarp and placed she and Aradin's bedrolls beneath it. She planned to down some of the bottle and get some food in before she headed for the river to get cleaned up. She was filthy and she reeked, officially needing to bathe.

Aradin sat down beside her, and they gorged over roasted boar legs. She shared the whiskey with him as they listened to the idle conversation between the travelers.

"And that's when I says, 'Shut the fuck up. You open that piehole again and your dead meat'." Winzig finished and all of them laughed except Cordeyr.

"I remember that." Strider chuckled, filling up his tankard with ale.

"That's our Winzig," cooed Augustus, the wine sloshing from out his cup.

"Sounds about right," added Zen, participating but unable to keep his eyes away from the mysterious little wood-elf.

Lenny smiled softly at the ranger from across the fire and Aradin's throat seized. He could have punched a hole into steel, and nothing had even happened yet. He had no right to feel this worried, to feel this jealous, not over a second-rate ranger. This bloke didn't even compare to him. He might have been around the same age, but Mournmoor seemed miles softer and years behind him in experience.

He had heard of the Mournmoors. Aradin had never worked for them, but he'd heard of them.

"Soo…" began Zen to Lenny and Aradin. "You two come to these ancient ruins often, or was this only a stepping-stone like it is for us?"

Aradin was about to tell him to mind his own, but Lorraine said, "Stepping-stone." Aradin glowered in disapproval. She shouldn't be giving away the details of their quest.

"Ah, I see. Care to share?"

"No, we don't." Aradin snipped waspishly.

"Aradin!" Lenny scolded.

Zen quirked a brow but was overall unfazed. "It's no matter. It's just… very lovely to meet you, to meet you both."

Aradin scoffed. "Is it?"

Lenny elbowed him in the ribs "It is, Zen. And we… thank you all for welcoming us to rest with you."

"You've clearly been through a lot!" exclaimed Gus. "And what sort of people would we be if we did not pay it forward to those in need?"

"We didn't need you." Aradin mumbled and Lorraine seethed.

"Of course not!" replied the bard, fear bubbling just beneath the surface of his thousand-watt smile. "You know, Lenny," his finger pointed up with an idea, quickly changing the subject. "There's a ballad I recently heard. It's about a gallant young warrior, a maiden who shares your name. Have you heard it, by chance?"

Aradin covered up his laugh with a cough, whiskey burning through his ears. Lenny felt her face flush with embarrassment, covering her eyes with a hand as she giggled sheepishly.

The travelers looked around at each other and back at the two, bemused.

"What?" asked Gus. "The songs' not about you, is it?"

"Please don't play it," begged Lorraine. "Please."

"I-I won't," Augustus was flabbergasted.

"Wow," sighed Zen, lovestruck. Not only was she clever and kind and gorgeous, but she was one of the greatest heroes to walk the land.

They all gazed at her in awe. "So, it's all true, then? The mind flayers, the Netherbrain?" Gus queried at the edge of his seat.

"I – " Lorraine hated this. She didn't know what to say. She was not exactly used to this sort of attention. "Well, yes."

The group had been reduced to speechlessness.

Even Aradin's eyes remained on her, mesmerized and heavy, seemingly drinking her in.

Lorraine supposed she'd had enough food and mingling with strangers for now. "I'm going to… I need some time to myself." She announced, and then took her bag and the bottle of whiskey with her.

Moments later, Aradin caught up to her. What part of 'I need some time to myself' did he not understand?

"Are you alright?" he asked, and she was startled by his sincere tone. She did not speak, only nodded. "Where are you going?"

"To wash up, of course," she answered, haughty. "Down to the river."

"Oh," he said, stopping briefly. "Could I come?"

"Only if you can keep some of your clothes on this time." Lenny told him, remembering how he'd brazenly sauntered around buck naked by the creek just that morning.

"Where's any fun in that?" he quipped. "And just how are we supposed to clean ourselves with clothes on?"

"You can stay filthy, or you can keep your clothes on. Come on, I'll race you."

"Fine, then." he said, and under his breath, "Prude little elf."

"Excuse me, I-I'm not prude."

She screamed slightly as she felt herself being lifted into the air. Aradin twirled her around once, his mouth sporting a playful grin as he set her back down, now taking the lead.

"Ugh!" She screeched, enraged. He snickered at her dismay, creeping down the rope ladder and begrudgingly, she chased after.

-\-O-/-

Despite her innate modesty, Lenny stripped down to just her taupe-shaded cloth bralette and panties. Aradin attempted to show respect for her by not staring as she revealed her body, but she saw him peek at her once or twice, and a little smirk formed on her lips.

Lorraine looked away as the fighter ditched his sweaty leather trousers for his nightly wear, a simple pair of beige cotton britches and then the both of them slowly eased into the water.

"Ahhh, feck yess," Aradin moaned, and Lenny's thighs rubbed together at the sound of it. Why did everything this man say turn her on? He always sounded rugged, gritty, breathless – as if he were making rough love with his voice.

The cool waters were a relief on her ruddy skin, and she quickly got to work soaping herself up. "You can have one of my soaps, there by my bag." She told him and Aradin nodded his thanks. Her cheeks burned as she watched his ripped torso bend out of the creek, outstretching a long, corded arm to fetch one of her homemade bars.

"Your wounds already look so much better." Lorraine observed and Aradin peered down at himself, agreeing.

"Those things work like a charm," he replied, referring to the potion.

"It was my last one, unfortunately."

"You're joking, right?"

"I mean, no?"

"That was the last of the potions?"

"Yes." She was getting annoyed, but he appeared miffed that she hadn't told him.

"If I'd 'a known that I wouldn't 'ave taken it. The wounds on my arm and shoulder would have healed eventually."

"We don't know that!" she argued. "You were just as likely to die from those gashes as you were to heal from them."

"Yeah, I guess … but we shouldn't be lazing around then. We should be looking around here for some shite we might need."

Lorraine conceded. She supposed they had some time for that. "Alright, yeah. You're right. I'll search around in the morning. Maybe I can purchase some from the others, if they have any spare."

They lingered in the creek as they finished bathing but just as she was about to get out, Aradin splashed her unexpectedly, cascading water straight into her eyes and completely drenching her before she could even think about getting dry.

Lenny glared at him dismally. Aradin had just declared war. Teeth bared, she jumped back in the water and splashed him seven-fold. He spluttered and coughed, trying to evade her attacks, splashing her back whenever he had an opening.

The battle continued for several seconds, a huge grin on Aradin's face. She could not contain her giggles either, both of them cackling as he tried to charge in to grab her, but she rolled away from him. Giving up, she began floating beside him on her back and Aradin conceded, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Her side hurt with stitches, but she had been afraid of just what Aradin might've done if he'd succeeded in grabbing her. Though she vied for his touch, she was not sure she could handle it all the same.

Despite its many hiccups, venturing out with the little elf was decidedly the most fun Aradin had in a great long while. He'd never felt so, he didn't know, free with anyone else like this. He only wished they could get closer, that he could be closer to her.

He wanted to kiss her, to ravage his hands across her lithe little body, to feel and taste every part of her, but Aradin had refrained every time. Yet honestly, though he could tell she wanted him, he was scared she would push him away, reject him. He wouldn't blame her if she did. She'd never slept with anyone before, after all. She'd never been fucked and damnit, what he would give to be the one.

It was not as if he were going to start behaving like those dewy-eyed blokes they just met. He wasn't going to go and write her a sonnet now or pick up a lute and start singing to her his affections, but he was going to have to do something.

He had tried to compliment her before, in his own upside-down way but maybe he needed to be more… straightforward. Maybe she would approve. Women loved to be admired, fawned over usually. Aradin hadn't wanted to give Lenny the satisfaction before, when he'd told her she was the last thing he'd wanted to grope.

And he wouldn't have groped her, not without permission.

But yeah, obviously he wanted to.

Yet the fear held him back and that was likely because for the first time ever, Aradin actually genuinely felt something for someone more than merely lust, though lust he did.

But he could hardly even admit that to himself. He had never loved before, or whatever. He always believed love was for the weaker few, the soft-hearted, the exceptions of the world. It was a strange word on his tongue, a foreign concept, and a rare gift he felt was never meant for him. Why would someone like him deserve something like that? If it existed out there, he had never earned it before.

He'd had many women in his day, but never anything pure, never anything that worked out. Lorraine was far more enticing and enjoyable to be around than any of them had been, not that he loved her, of course. He'd practically just met her! Also, Aradin could not be sure he even knew the right way to, to do that, to be someone who loves.

Lorraine seemed as if she were going to get out of the water again but once more, Aradin interrupted her mission.

"Hey," he started.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, you know, for what you did back there with that sword." Lorraine's face lit up, turning back in the water to face him. "There was a moment where, uh, I wasn't sure we'd make it."

She smiled in response, blinking back at him bashfully. She hadn't been about to let them die. Lenny wasn't sure he had ever officially thanked her for anything before then, not even for the money she'd paid him but that was alright. His thanks was not necessary.

"Your hair is… beautiful." He then said jarringly, drifting in near so he could see her better against the moonlight.

Aradin had hoped he'd have thought of something better than that to say, but her eyes widened at the flattery. "Oh, thank you…" She felt her belly doing flip flops, heartrate escalating, and she eyed him suspiciously. He was suddenly laying on the charm now?

"But what kind of name is Lenny anyway?" Aradin couldn't very well be giving out compliments without a jeering jest or two.

Lorraine's head spun. Aradin had a way of pulling her this way, then that. "What? I don't know, it's ju – "

"Lenny," he chuckled in a mocking tone. "Lenny Finch sounds like some bird, and well, you are some bird."

"Hey now," she warned. "I'm not just some bird."

"No, I mean your – oh, never mind it." He had meant that she was something else, something damn amazing to him, but he didn't know how to say it. He'd opt to go a different direction. Aradin was far better at taking action than speaking words. "Just c'mere," he growled, grasping lightly her waist and pressing his soaking wet form against hers.

Electric friction, skin on skin contact. Aradin steadied his breathing above her, holding her in close. Lorraine welcomed his embrace, resting her forehead onto his bare shoulder. Her knees were weak, legs like jelly beneath the water. She was more than sexually frustrated at this point but felt happy. She did not care if they never left this river, did not want this moment to end.

Aradin peered down at her, and she slowly peered back. His rough fingers reached up, stroking softly the side of her face. His touch was pure bliss to her.

She had a scar across the top of her nose which he'd noticed before, a small, endearing gash. He traced a gentle knuckle over it, brushing her cheek. Returning the gesture, Lorraine dusted her fingers up over the scar above his brow, feathering down to the fresh split on his lip, the healing slashes on his arm and collarbone.

Lorraine watched as the apple of his throat bobbed with trepidation, thousands of thoughts flying across his oh so serious, dark honeyed eyes.

Not for the first time since their quest began, she thought they might kiss, that he might kiss her. It was like he was toying with her, faking her out every time – making her want it even more. Yet all the same, she felt comforted in his presence. Kissing or not, she felt safe, regardless of if she'd had to previously save his arse from a raging gnoll.

"Lainey." He murmured softly, feeling himself leaning in, about to succumb to his desires.

Her face drew away in alarmed shock, "What did you – did you just call me Lainey?"

Aradin's brows were knotted together, concerned. "Yeah. Is that alright?"

"That's… what my parents used to call me."

"I – sorry," he said, backtracking. "It just came to me, and I liked the way it sounded."

"Heh, wow." She went on in her startled reverie. "That's mad. Nobody has said it in such a long time."

She thought that it was sort of a funny thing, prickling her skin, raising her to attention. Was it just a coincidence, or did it mean something more? Anybody could have called her that, if they'd thought of it, but nobody ever did, nobody except her late mum and dad, and now Aradin.

Lorraine couldn't have used 'Lainey' as an alias before – her uncle and others who knew her growing up would have recognized the name if they'd ever heard it, but she reckoned whatever she called herself was of little consequence now. They knew about her and were searching for her. It no longer mattered.

"Sorry," mumbled Aradin again, remorseful but Lorraine shook her head.

"No, its… it's fine actually. It's good."

"It's good?"

"Yes,"

"Okay. Good." He whispered. "It suits you, you know, if you don't mind me saying."

Lorraine beamed, smiling shyly. "Does it?"

"It does." He exhaled dazedly, the name on his tongue. "Lainey. May I call you that?"

"I – yeah, alright. But only you."

"Only me?" Aradin feigned shock. "Well, I suddenly feel so special."

"You bloody should." Lorraine jested, grinning coquettishly.

His hand swept daringly across her neck where he cradled her head from beneath, fingers tangled in her hair. She for sure could tell he was going to kiss her this time, his mouth looming above hers, inching closer, their breaths mingling.

Then there were drunken laughing voices approaching, completely ruining their moment. She and Aradin pulled away from each other, annoyed by the disturbance. They both clambered out of the water to dry off and get dressed, watching as the two silhouettes of Winzig and Strider came near.

"See? They has the same idea," said Winzig to the latter, unlatching pieces of his tribal armor.

"Gentlemen," greeted Lorraine, cringing at her formal tone. "The water's wonderful."

"Excellent," Strider exclaimed, beginning to strip his own clothing.

'Damnable fuckheads,' Aradin fumed to himself, pulling on a fresh white tunic. He had only just mustered up the audacity to claim her lips when they were so rudely interrupted. It had felt like the right time. When would she and him get the chance now? Would she let him get close to her again, let him try again? He'd somehow found solace with Lorraine, but the solace was so far elusive and hard to obtain.

He was all pumped up now and there was nowhere healthy to focus his energy. All this did was add to his agitation, to the agonizing tightness in his loins. He thought about going for a run, a jog, beating the shite out of the first rotted tree he saw.

He thought about sneaking away and relieving his frustrations, something he should have done before but now he refused. He did not want to leave her alone with all these strange men, and he could go longer than one would expect without taking care of himself.

As they made it back to their makeshift shelter and their bedrolls, Aradin could not be sure if he was grateful to be stationed so close beside her, or if he was ultimately doomed. It definitely felt like both. Falling asleep right next to her like that could prove difficult and he hoped he'd get at least some shuteye.

They stood there, finishing off the whiskey. The rest of the travelers were quieting down, the fire slowly dwindling. 'Party 'til the sun comes up my arse,' Aradin inwardly mused.

Zennith Mournmoor peered longingly over at the wood-elf, wounded at the realization of just how familiar she and her fighter companion were becoming. Perhaps he did not have a chance, after all.

Lorraine, dressed in just her bralette and a pair of black cotton shorts, scuttled into her bedroll. Aradin twisted down inside his own, stretching his body out under it as he got himself comfortable.

He felt her staring at him, and he looked over, meeting the warmth of her eyes. "What now?"

"Do you think – well, will you maybe come closer?"

"You want me to come closer?" he asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"That's what I said."

She'd not have to ask again as Aradin slid and scooted his bedroll over until he was directly beside her. Their arms and hands grazed, lingering there by each other's touch and Aradin closed his eyes.

"Thank you," she squeaked, and he clasped his fingers firmly around hers.

Contrary to his worry, Aradin succumbed to sleep far faster than he'd anticipated. It was Lorraine, who struggled to relax. He began snoring lightly, and she kept sneaking glances at him, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. She counted his breaths as if she counted sheep, matching her own breathing with his and this is what tranquilized her to slumber.

-\-O-/-

Lenny's eyes burst open in the middle of the night, heart pounding, perspiration dotting her brow. Snores and groans of repletion reverberated nearby from all the travelers snoozing, and though her dreams and visions had felt intense, she could not remember much.

She turned over on her side to find that Aradin was facing her as he dozed. He looked mostly peaceful, save for a tiny furrow of his brows, a slight quiver to his lips. His breathing was steady. At some point while she had slept, Aradin must have awoken and peeled off his tunic, for he rested there, his upper body bare for her to appreciate.

Before she understood what she was doing, her hand was reaching up, fingertips glazing over his hardened chest, brushing by the soft fur between his pectorals.

Aradin did not wake, but he seemed to sense her there, exhaling through his nose in contentment as he leaned into her touch. She thought about kissing those lips of his, kissing his chest. He was right there. Her body was trembling, and she could not bring herself to. It would not have been right of her.

She ached now in a devastating way for something she'd never known, ached for Aradin to get on top of her and take what he wanted. She had never been so aroused in her life. It took what felt like years for her to collect herself again and calm down enough to fall back asleep.

As she slept, she turned over on her other side, and Aradin instinctually tossed his arm around her, sufficiently spooning in behind her. In the throes of their dreams, they had not an inkling of just how flush against each other they were.

Until the twilight of the dawn threatened the darkness, and Lorraine awoke again. She instantly noticed his arm was on her, his face nuzzled her hair, cheek resting on her head. Ever so slightly, she moved under his chin to face him again.

And then her body, hazy with sleep, heady with desire, was doing things of its own accord again. This time, she did allow her face to inch forward, skimming a delicate kiss over his chest, rising to press one to his throat, hovering by a spot below his ear.

There was the subtle hint of her peony soap to his taste, but something like smoky cedar infused with sweat engulfed her. One of her hands snaked behind his neck where, by her great delight, found out just how deliciously soft his curls were as her fingers threaded through.

Suddenly Aradin stirred, and her breath hitched, the fawn who had been caught. His hand twisted around her long locks, pulling her head back to expose her own skin and she gasped. He dragged his nose along her neck, inhaling her scent deeply before moving over her so she was pinned on her back.

His eyes were still closed, and something seemed a little strange with him, as if Aradin was not all the way awake yet. He might not have even been aware of what he was doing, but she did not stop him as she felt his tongue dart out and taste her, mouth perusing the puffy shelf of her breast. She moaned, her hips rolling against him, feeling for the first time the long length of his determined arousal jutting into her thigh, straining through his trousers.

He was pulling down the strap of her bra, crushing his hardness against her, groaning in satisfaction, peppering kisses to her shoulder. Lorraine could not hold back the fluttery whimpers that left her as he grabbed one of her breasts, tongue scorching a white-hot trail to the junction between them.

Then just as quickly as it began, Aradin came to, stopping abruptly his ministrations. He shook his head, falling back into the reality of it all as he realized that he was not in a dream. He seethed in displeasure of himself, having no idea how they'd come to this, how he'd lost control.

"I'm… fuck. I'm so sorry," he murmured, shuffling off of her.

Bloody hell, this was her fault. She played with fire, had begged for something to transpire and it did. She didn't mind at all, of course, but Aradin did not know that.

He thought he'd done something very wrong, yet Lorraine had enjoyed every second of it. She had only wished he might stop because it did not seem as if he were aware of his actions, and it turned out that was the case.

"I, no, it's alright," she tried to reassure him. "You… you didn't know what you were doing." Lenny was afraid to tell him the truth, that she had been coaxing him, kissing his skin in his sleep, though she hadn't understood her mistake until now. "It was, it was nothing, I-I didn't mind, I – "

"No," he stopped her. "I shouldn't have touched you, I… I thought I was in a dream."

"It's okay, really," she told him, sitting up with him and squeezing his arm. "Aradin, I – "

"I'm sorry," he said again, and again, standing to his feet, pacing for a moment before telling her, "I need to take a walk."

"Okay." Lorraine sighed, unhappy with herself. She took a swig of her canteen, fresh water hydrating her dry throat, staring out at the sparkling horizon as she wondered how she was going to fix this.

-\-O-/-

AN: I have nothing to say for myself lol but thank you sooo much to anyone who is here reading! Much, much love to you and cheers.